


the system

by crying_eggs



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anal Sex, Blood, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Chastity Device, Cowgirl Position, Discipline, Edgeplay, Gods, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Light Masochism, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Minor Character Death, Oracles, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Prostate Massage, Rope Bondage, Servants, Smut, Spanking, Temple, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:48:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26398150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crying_eggs/pseuds/crying_eggs
Summary: “It’s all fake,” the silver-haired male said as a servant kissed the soles of his ever so delicate pale feet. As expected of a god, his skin was smooth. Not a blemish or wrinkle laid on his skin. The mole under his eye was a kiss from another god, his mother.“I’m sorry?” the servant said, his lips kissing each and every toe.To the one on the throne, it felt like soft butterflies blessed every inch of his skin. As they should. He was a deity of importance, a blessed being sitting in the same presence of a lowly servant. Sugawara. The deity of fertility. He looked down. What don’t you understand?
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 15
Kudos: 80





	1. faux

“It’s all fake,” the silver-haired male said as a servant kissed the soles of his ever so delicate pale feet. As expected of a god, his skin was smooth. Not a blemish or wrinkle laid on his skin. The mole under his eye was a kiss from another god, his mother. 

“I’m sorry?” the servant said, his lips kissing each and every toe. To the one on the throne, it felt like soft butterflies blessed every inch of his skin. As they should. He was a deity of importance, a blessed being sitting in the same presence of a lowly servant. Sugawara. The deity of fertility. He looked down.  _ What don’t you understand?  _

“I said, it’s all fake.”

“What’s all fake?”

“There aren’t any gods, my dear,” he cooed, “It’s all oppressive bullshit, don’t you see? My. Our education system is truly lacking.” More kisses along his foot slowly trailed up his shin. He was respected. Revered. All things he never deserved. But why wouldn’t he grasp this opportunity? 

“I’m not following.” 

“Of course you aren’t,” he said, tilting the servants head upwards, “Even though it’s painfully simple, our societal system. People are born. Some are selected to take an exam. If they pass, they become a god! They are worshipped for their intelligence! And their children are eligible to become gods, everyone can be a fucking god and do nothing for the rest of their lives! It’s truly a golden opportunity. But...it’s a shame.”

“What’s a shame?”

“Questions, questions. You people have so many questions. But, if you must know...I can do this and have no consequences,” he muttered. Sighing softly, Sugawara reached into his robe, pulling out a silver pocket knife. With a quick flick of the wrist, his former servant’s corpse fell to the ground. Blood sprayed onto the once white carpet. 

“ _ Now why did I do that?” _


	2. joyride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Congratulations, sir. You start tomorrow.”

_ GOD IN NEED OF SERVANT. NO PREVIOUS EXPERIENCE REQUIRED. MALE PREFERRED. PAYMENT IN DIAMONDS BIWEEKLY AND LODGING PROVIDED. _

“God in need of servant,” Oikawa mumbled to himself. He squinted as he continued to read the job board. The other jobs didn’t pay nearly as well. No one else would pay in diamonds, let alone biweekly. Besides, how bad could working for a god be? Some of his acquaintances had pleasant experiences working for them. For instance, his best friend, Iwaizumi Hajime, worked for the god of beauty. Apparently, he received beauty tips. Who didn’t need that in their life? The idea of working for the god of beauty made him think of his wrinkles and eye bags. Being unemployed and homeless for a year really sucked the life out of him. 

“I wouldn’t take the job.” A man interrupted his thoughts. Ushijima Wakatoshi, the town’s bartender. He enabled drunks, bastards, and whores for their gold pieces. With a small grunt, Ushijima stepped over the counter. He gestured to the flyer. “Do you recognize this handwriting?”

“No.”

“You’re more lost than I thought. This flyer has been here for months. Do you know why it hasn’t been taken?”

“Because the people here are idiots? Hey, give it back! I wasn’t done reading!”

“No one’s taken the job because the deity who posted it is a cold-blooded killer. People who work for him end up dead. Sure, you’ll get paid diamonds every two weeks. You’ll have a place to stay, even some nice food. Maybe you’ll even stop coming to this bar without buying anything. But that won’t mean shit if you’re dead.”

“Who’s the deity?”

“Do you know who the deity of fertility is?”

“Sugawara Koushi…Is he really like that? He seems so kind. I mean, he has to be. He works with couples who want children.” Ushijima only sighed in response as Oikawa continued to talk. And talk. And talk. “Are you sure you don’t have a personal vendetta against him? Did he not give you a child? Or did you hear this from some drunkard?” 

“I do have a personal vendetta against him, if I’ll be honest. My husband worked for him five years ago and hasn’t come home since. He’s a very faithful man, if that’s what you’re thinking.” The two went silent. Their paper exchange was just as silent, despite the bar being as lively as ever. None of the clamor mattered. Despite the glass breaking, chairs slamming, people yelling, no one else mattered. After hearing a familiar two words, “REFILL, DAMMIT!” Ushijima hopped back over the counter to continue his duty as the town’s bartender and slave to the drunks, bastards, and whores. 

_ GOD IN NEED OF SERVANT. NO PREVIOUS EXPERIENCE REQUIRED. MALE PREFERRED. PAYMENT IN DIAMONDS BIWEEKLY AND LODGING PROVIDED. _

Once again, Oikawa scrutinized the flyer in his hands. “No contact information. Lovely.” All inquiries regarding deities required going to the town’s temple in the middle of the city. There, an oracle would summon the god in question. At least, that’s what Iwaizumi said. But his mind couldn’t help but wander to his conversation with Ushijima. At this point, he was on a carriage to the temple. A ride that cost 2 gold pieces. In his little satchel were 5. 

He could only bet that Iwaizumi was right. 

The town’s temple was nothing out of the ordinary. It stood tall and proud, its architecture nothing short of ornate and stunning. Inside, it was lit by candles and along its walls were frescoes of previous gods and their powers. At the top stood the very first. He was unnamed, but the town had an entire Holy Week dedicated to his being. Oikawa stood in awe. Right. He was here about the crumpled flyer in his hands. At the end of the temple’s hall knelt the town’s oracle, Kiyoko. She was a woman of average stature, always dressed in a hood. Rumor had it that she had a beautiful face. Rumor had it that she had beautiful, silky hair, but oracles had the right to secrecy. She’d taken that right as her own. No one knew what she looked like; not even her partner reserved the right to see what was underneath that hood. Speaking of which, she spoke. 

“Kneel.”

And he did. Oracles were almost as praised as gods. Do as told, or face the consequences. Disobedience of an oracle meant death. No wonder Oikawa sweat bullets through his sheer blouse.

“Forehead to the ground. Then state your request.”

Like a dog, he did as told. “I wish to work for the god of fertility.”

“Which one? You may speak.”

“Sugawara Koushi. I believe he posted this flier at a local bar.”

“Pass me the flier.”

With both knees on the ground, he dug in his satchel and slid over the crumpled piece of paper. 

“You dare crumple this holy piece of paper?”

He tensed, pressing his forehead to the ground once again. “I apologize.”

“I was making a joke,” she stated. He remained tense. “Let’s see...This has been posted by Sugawara Koushi. You can tell because of the writing. If you’ll follow me to the temple’s garden, we will speak to him.” Oikawa stood up after she did. He towered over her. Even then, he couldn’t see any of her features besides her calloused hands. Calloused, just like his own. Heading towards the garden, vines grew along the temple’s walls, covering the frescoes that adorned them. They looked considerably older than the ones along the entrance.

“Do you know what these paintings are about?” he asked. He’d disturbed the quiet.

“No. They were damaged before I became the oracle. According to my schooling, however, they were created by the people before the first god. When he was born, he brought peace to the once chaotic society.” They were followed by silence once again. When they reached the temple’s garden. The garden overlooked all of the town. Its flowers blossomed and thrived close to the sun that kissed their petals. Rain gave them gentle hugs when the water god felt kind. Every flower had thorns. Except those that belonged to the temple. They were perfect and gentle, as all living beings should be. 

As Oikawa looked over the cliff that the garden sat on, the oracle pulled him back. She shot a yellow flare into the air whilst covering her left ear. In response, she received two green flares. 

“Congratulations, sir. You start tomorrow.”


	3. if you pray right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even Oikawa knew it would be stupid to step inside. But he did lean in closer. Off in the forbidden room, a slight beam of light shone on what appeared to be a hand. A human hand. 
> 
> He clamped his mouth shut. 
> 
> “It could be a mannequin,” he reassured himself, completely ignoring the bead of sweat that dripped down his freshly-washed head. “It’s a mannequin,” he repeated, shutting the door. For his own sanity, it was mannequin.

After a carriage ride that cost 2 gold pieces, Oikawa found himself in front of the white house–no, castle–that belonged to the god of fertility. Considering how tall the entrance’s stairs were, he found himself relieved he brought nothing but himself, his satchel, and his clothes on his back. The velvet satchel that hung around his waist now only contained 1 gold piece, so if he regretted his decision and wanted to go home, he would have to walk. No one wanted to do that. 

One last chance to change his mind. He thought about what the bartender said, everything about people going missing. Even if that were true, it didn’t hurt to be paid in diamonds first. 

“He probably got that idea from a drunk,” he told himself before knocking on the doors. Even the knobs were ornate, as they were carved into lions. Everything about this castle screamed wealth. It truly was a house for a god. While he waited for Sugawara to answer the door, he took the time to look at the angels painted onto the marble doors. Along them were stiles painted in gold and adorned with flowers. Each second that passed, he found something new to admire. 

There was a click. When the door creaked, before him stood a god. Oikawa stood there in shock, his body trembling. He was even prettier in person. The papers did him no justice. 

“I take it you’re my new servant?” he asked. His voice screamed indifference. People would think that the god of fertility would be warm to others, kind, loving. But a deity like him, oh so powerful, had no obligations. Humans would take him for who he was. Cruel or loving. He squinted at his new servant, who could finally move. Oikawa took this moment to kneel before the silver-haired saint. 

“Yes. My name is Oik-”

“I never asked for your name.” How cold. He kept his forehead pressed to the floor before the god. “You can get up now. You should definitely shower first. The bath is up the stairs, make a right, and the last room at the end of the hallway. Your first order is to not check any of the other rooms without my permission. Dismissed.” 

“Where will you be going?”

“You sure talk a lot. I’ll be in my quarters. I’ll know when you’re done.” Sugawara turned around and his sheer white robes swished along with his curvy figure. A beautiful sight for a beautiful person; a beautiful person with plenty of secrets to hide. Perhaps they were in the forbidden rooms. When he disappeared from Oikawa’s field of vision, he got up and did as told. 

Along the castle’s walls were paintings of angels, demons, and babies born. The paintings always depicted hardship. Chaos. The servant shook his head. He decided it was best not to think about it anymore. While the other rooms intrigued him, he wasn’t one to disobey orders on his first day. Not to mention, disobeying a god could get him killed.

It’d been a long time since hot water kissed his body. Hot, clear water. He couldn’t help but sink in the tub ever so slightly. More angels along the walls pranced in a meadow, kissing, playing flutes, dancing with satyrs. Even the bathroom had its own innocence. When was the last time he took a bath anyway? Probably...a month ago? His face scrunched at all of the grime coming off of his body. Water that had once been clear turned a murky brown. Then again, it was difficult to clean yourself when homeless. 

Oikawa stepped out of the tub. A dry fluffy towel soaked up all of the water that clung to his body, only to be thrown into a hamper next to the sink. On the toilet was a glass bottle. After taking a sniff, he determined it to be lavender body oil, something the rich used to moisturize their bodies and smell nice. Lavender body oil was priced around 12 diamonds a bottle, as the plant was incredibly difficult to find. 

He lathered it on. He wasn’t sure why he did that, but he did and felt like royalty. Almost like....

“A god,” he murmured, now sliding on his uniform, which consisted of a white blouse decorated with ruffles near the neck and collar and dark pants that clung to his figure. How...pirate-like. But one thing did stick out to him: he wore no shoes. Perhaps his new master had a thing for feet? Ah, he was getting all caught up in his thoughts again. He left the bathroom, and he couldn’t help but notice one of the doors, the forbidden doors, was slightly ajar. It was dark. Even when he squinted, he couldn’t see anything. Even Oikawa knew it would be stupid to step inside. But he did lean in closer. Off in the forbidden room, a slight beam of light shone on what appeared to be a hand. A human hand. 

He clamped his mouth shut. 

“It could be a mannequin,” he reassured himself, completely ignoring the bead of sweat that dripped down his freshly-washed head. “It’s a mannequin,” he repeated, shutting the door. For his own sanity, it was mannequin.

But it wasn’t. If only he had a candle to illuminate the horrors that went on in his new employer’s abode, if only…

“You’re much more handsome when you’re clean,” Sugawara said, crossing his legs. His robes draped over those pale, smooth, and hairless legs. He would look like a ghost if it weren’t for those kind, auburn eyes and plump pink lips. They reminded Oikawa of cherries and were definitely something he wanted to tie with his tongue. Alas, he knelt before his master, head to the ground. His own lips, slightly chapped, pressed against those delicate legs. He heard they were prized among other gods and even comparable to those of the god of beauty. Even the god of sex was jealous of those legs. 

He trailed his lips up and close to his thigh, to which the deity placed a hand to his head. His lips curved upwards into a smirk. “You seem eager to please on day one. You may speak.”

“Of course,” he replied, his eyes low to the ground, “I don’t see who wouldn’t want to please someone as yourself.”

A soft sigh left the master’s lips. His shoulders relaxed, and his eyelids drooped the way wrinkled arm skin does when a woman ages. “You sure know how to use that mouth of yours. Tell me, why are you here right now?”

Kiss. Another kiss. A small lick that made goosebumps rise on his legs. The hairs stood on their ends. “I want to serve.” Sugawara now tapped his fingers along his arm rest.  _ Tk. Tk. Tk. Tk.  _ They were sequential, sounding from index to pinky. “And I would like to be paid.” That answer didn’t surprise him. His fingers stopped on the third tap; humans were so predictable. It was their fault for working in their own self-interest. It was their fault for the creation of capitalism, which was inevitably the creation of their own demise. Of course he was here for diamonds. Diamonds were worthless to the god! He could attain them whenever he pleased, a wealthy couple was always looking to have children!

“100 diamonds biweekly is your starting salary.”

100 diamonds...100 diamonds! Who knew how many gold pieces that was, how many places Oikawa could go, how much food he could eat! It’d been so long since he’d had a fresh loaf of bread, all for himself! He could buy himself some clothes, perhaps that one scarf encrusted with rubies he saw at the silk stand. The things he could do with just 100 diamonds…

“Yessir,” he agreed, his lips now pressing at his ankle. 

“Now tell me, what is your name?”

“Oikawa Tooru.”

“Oikawa Tooru. It rolls off the tongue nicely.”

It would soon be a surprise to the deity that his new servant had history. And lots of it. He could sit back in his throne at ease. For now.


	4. au debut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Your son will become a god,” the nurse told her, “A god giving birth to another is very lucky. The oracle never lies. She says that young Koushi will grow up to be very powerful and affluent. If he passes the exam, that is.”
> 
> “I’ve heard that the exam is getting harder each year.” Her voice, honey dripping down firewood, soothed even the tensest of souls.
> 
> “Of course,” he replied, putting velvet blankets over the new mother’s legs. They were riddled with goosebumps. Deities never had to say how they were feeling; the people just had to know. “Young ones are getting smarter and smarter each year. It’s useless if everyone is god. What do you want, an equal society? That’s preposterous, if you ask me.”

Among hundreds of babies in a nursery, one named Sugawara Koushi was chosen. His mother, once notified, sat in her bed in glee. She was a bald-headed woman, with no eyebrows or eyelashes. On her left cheek sat a tiny mole that smiled at whomever was lucky to make eye contact. 

“Your son will become a god,” the nurse told her, “A god giving birth to another is very lucky. The oracle never lies. She says that young Koushi will grow up to be very powerful and affluent. If he passes the exam, that is.”

“I’ve heard that the exam is getting harder each year.” Her voice, honey dripping down firewood, soothed even the tensest of souls.

“Of course,” he replied, putting velvet blankets over the new mother’s legs. They were riddled with goosebumps. Deities never had to say how they were feeling; the people just had to know. “Young ones are getting smarter and smarter each year. It’s useless if everyone is god. What do you want, an equal society? That’s preposterous, if you ask me.”

“Equal societies are a thing of fairy tales anyway.”

“Exactly. So train your young one well. I think he’ll make a fine god someday.”

The moment she scooped her baby in her arms, she knew that he was destined for greatness. Things such as motherly love distracted children, so that day she held him for the first and last time. He savored her warmth, something he would eventually forget. Instead of motherly intimacy, her maid was now responsible for raising Sugawara. But that didn’t mean she was completely out of the loop; she taught her son the ways of gods and how to pass the dreaded exam. 

During the day, he ran 8 miles up and down hills barefoot until he was no longer in town. It was his responsibility to find his way home. His satchel was empty; people like him had to struggle to achieve paradise. His mother, in the meantime, listened to classical music whilst sipping her tea by the fireplace. When he returned, he bathed promptly before sitting down and learning every language spoken in the town. English, Japanese, Mandarin, Korean, Ainu, and Ryukyuan. His mother expected him to speak, write, and read eloquently in every language assigned. To test him, he had to write a 1000 page novel in each language after spending hours studying his extensive vocabulary. 

Other children had the chance to play outside with their friends. That explained Sugawara’s pale complexion. Not only did he look like a ghost, but he was also a ghost of a person. Besides his 8 mile runs, vocabulary, and novel-writing, he was educated on several different types of weapons and types of combat. While most people revered gods, few attempted to kill them to attain their riches or gain equality in this corrupt society. By the time he turned 10, he was knowledgeable in knives, swords, guns, and hand-to-hand combat. 

He’d killed his first man when he was 11 years old. Granted, he consented to die after Sugawara’s mother paid his family a million diamonds for their troubles, but that didn’t mean he didn’t go down without a fight. On February 2nd, he’d tasted blood for the first time. He loved the taste of it. 

Being a god also meant he had to be intelligent. Yes, he had a large vocabulary, but even idiots could study a dictionary for hours and hours and end. At the end of the day, right before bed, he studied the city’s history and learned about other nations, as well as calculus. He littered his ceiling with complex calculus equations that he had to look at when he woke up. Of course, his training would be put to use when the boy turned 13.

When those eligible turned 13, they were tested in a variety of areas. These exams happened once a year, and went as such: 

_ Written portion _ . Sugawara sat alone in a room with whiteboard walls. No desk. No chair. Simply a marker and eraser. For the next two hours, he would be tested on a variety of subjects. History, literature, mathematics, science, criminal justice, art and aesthetics, psychology, language, and religion all belonged on the exam. With each question answered, a new one would appear on the white board. When he was finished, he simply pressed “submit”. He let out a small breath, stretching his back. History was always his weak spot. 

_ Communication _ . After an hour of break time, he dressed in formal attire, making sure to button up his jacket and rehearse his manners. During this portion of the exam, eligible persons would sit before gods and proctors and carry conversation. Gods had to be liked by people and deemed appropriate. In front of him sat a cup of tea spiked with truth serum. He eyed it suspiciously before greeting the god by pressing his head to the floor. He was being tested by the god of death, Ukai Keishin. Everyone knew that he was an especially harsh evaluator. 

“You may sit.” Ukai also had a cup of tea. However, he never drank out of it. So Sugawara never drank out of his. Rule 37 of his mother’s teachings:  _ never eat or drink until the other party does _ . Their conversation was nonchalant; he asked the boy about himself, his hobbies (to which he responded he didn’t have any. Gods weren’t supposed to have hobbies. Being a figurehead was a 24/7 responsibility), his aspirations and the like. Their conversations switched languages. Ukai began in Korean. The boy responded in Korean. Then English, then Japanese and a few dialects, and ended in Mandarin. 

Ukai stood up first, to which Sugawara pressed his forehead to the floor. “I like you, kid. I hope you’re ready for the last portion of the test. I think you’ll make a fine god someday.” 

No answer. Sweat dribbled down his sideburn.

“You may speak.”

“Thank you.”

_ Arena. _ The most painful part of the exam. Those who passed were sectioned into groups of 25 and placed in different terrains. That day, 100 kids were present. they were all tagged with GPSes on their hearts that were in sync with their heartbeats. 

Four different testing arenas. In each terrain, only 1 could succeed. Only 4 children would become beloved gods. They had absolutely nothing on their person besides the clothes on their back. 

_ BANG! _

A red flare shot into the air. Children began killing each other with weapons laid out along the terrain. In Sugawara’s section, there was nothing but snow. He’d read about it in books. But no book warned him about the stinging in his now red fingertips. He saw his breath. 

“Think,” he told himself, placing his hands on his cheeks in an attempt to keep warm. His feet began to burn. There weren’t any thermometers around, so he assumed it was below 0 fahrenheit (-17.8 celsius). That meant he had 10 minutes to find warmth, or else he’d freeze to death before becoming a god. Then his whole life would’ve been pointless, wouldn’t it? 

With each step into the snow, his feet burned. He was too accustomed to not wearing shoes. His muscles shivered, and the sea of white made it impossible to see. It was hard to believe that anyone was out there. Then again, he could’ve gotten the desert terrain. Freezing to death sounded better than sweating to it.  _ How many minutes has it been?  _ His body quaked. Pins and needles spread throughout his body; he felt like an electric current.  _ How many people have died from the cold?  _

Sugawara got on his hands and knees. His eyes saw nothing but white, and his mind became a blur. His confusion stopped when he heard a commotion up ahead. There were people! He scrambled to his feet, heading towards the sound. Occasionally the wind allowed him to see his opponents, other children just like him. In his eyes, they weren’t even human. They were nothing but scum. More importantly, they were scum with warm equipment. He salivated at the thought of warmth. His body filled with adrenaline; maybe that impulse was what drove him into an unnecessary fight. 

His first opponent was a redhead named Hinata Shoyo. He’d seen him around at the testing center; he was also the person before him to speak to Ukai Keishin. In all honesty, he didn’t look smart enough to be here. It...angered Sugawara. Not anyone could just be a fucking god! After a bit of a struggle, Hinata managed to land some hits on the silver-haired male’s face. One of his teeth fell into the snow, never to be seen again. 

“You’re stronger than you look, shortie,” Sugawara said through gritted teeth, he reached upwards and successfully flipped them over. People like him, people who thought they could do anything, really pissed him off. Maybe that’s why he started by breaking his fingers one by one as the tinier male squirmed in his steel grip. They wrestled and wrestled, only for Sugawara to gain dominance. He’d elicited a gurgled scream from Hinata, which caused him to sink his teeth into his throat. Once he clamped down on the skin, he didn’t stop until blood came out. 

The bastard was still alive, just panting heavily underneath him. Even with broken fingers, he was still a fighter. Blood loss wasn’t happening quick enough, and he didn’t want to waste his time trying to bite again. He wasn’t a vampire, after all. Just angry. With no weapons on hand, Sugawara put both hands on Hinata’s face and gave it a kick twist. The other boy fell limp in the snow. His parents would never see him again. 

Blood coursed through Sugawara’s veins. It kept him warm, and he felt nothing. He licked at his lips, turning around to see another contestant come at him. Now with a clearer mind, he could focus on the other male. Kageyama Tobio, and he came with a fur hat, coat, and shoes from a bear he killed. Sugawara ducked, turning around so he could punch him in the gut. When he was doubled over, he took the chance to elbow him in the head. Kageyama, however, gripped onto his arm and flipped him over so the silver-haired male was on the ground. He now straddled him, putting a sword to his chest.

Sugawara smirked. Cold wind made his body burn. He needed that fur, and fast. Fur, then shelter, then fire. As Kageyama raised his sword, the boy underneath him raised his hand at lightning-speed. His fingers gouged at his eyes. As he was temporarily blinded, he took his sword and slit at his throat. An amateur mistake, all of these people were fucking amateurs. Just like a vulture picking at a dead possum, Kageyama’s belongings were stolen. The fur hat, jacket, boots, and machete were his now. 

Onwards he trudged. As his adrenaline came to a standstill, he became tired and decided to hide and only fight when necessary. He was a god of fertility, after all. Stupidity like that was only expected of a god of war. As other children fought and killed each other, he watched them from a snowy overlook. Sometimes the wind permitted him to see the massacre their society wanted. But not once did he question it. This wasn’t wrong. This was his destiny. 

The fighting in this area didn’t stop, and it was getting colder as night fell. The blizzard finally stopped, so he couldn’t be so careless, even if it were dark. Every so often he squeezed his hands and feet to make sure blood still circulated. He was still alive, to his surprise. 

“Perfect,” he mumbled, preparing his machete. A boar lapped at pond water in peace. With each crunch of snow, however, she grew suspicious and prepared to run. But Sugawara wouldn’t let that happen. He hadn’t eaten or drank anything all day, and those were 2 things he didn’t want to die of. 

Snow crunching was too risky. He couldn’t get close like that. He couldn’t step close or do a sneak-attack. The boy tapped his chin in thought. His conclusion: to hit the animal square in the head with his boot. 

“Bulls-eye,” he grinned, even giggling to himself, hobbling down the hill with one foot in the snow. He looked absolutely stupid. When he got back down, he did his best to dry his foot off before slitting the animal’s throat. Gathering some more fur, he made a fur satchel, assembling it with branches and twigs. There, he placed some meat for his picking, as well as materials for a fire. He couldn’t start one out here. It was too obvious of a place. The smoke would give him away; that was like asking to get killed. Before he left, though, he took a big gulp of unfiltered water. He had nothing to filter it with, let alone a canister to-go. That was simply a risk he had to take. Besides...it looked clean enough...right? Right. 

And so onwards he trudged, finally rehydrated and somewhat warm. His body still burned and occasionally tingled, but he would fix that with a fire. Along the way, he found a bear’s den. How incredibly lucky. It seemed completely uninhabited. Not a sign of animals or humans. So that’s where he decided to set up camp. He began with creating his fire with twigs and the like, ferociously rubbing them together until he got the smoke he wanted. Immediately greed overtook him and he stuck his hands and feet in front of the dancing lady that warmed his digits. When he was satisfied, he began cooking the boar he’d slain so easily. Victory had never tasted so unseasoned. 

By morning, his fire had gone out. After enjoying his breakfast boar, he peeked out of his den. The sun shone bright on the tundra, and everything was as clear as day. Not too far off were a pile of bodies, ravaged of their clothes, weapons, and humanity. Some of them had been so gruesomely murdered that they couldn’t be identified. A true shame for them. 

Seeing that the battlefield was mostly empty, he went back into his den. During this time, he sharpened his machete, practiced his punches until his knuckles were scabbed and bloody, ate, rested. But eventually...he grew thirsty. And with nothing to provide as a water bottle, he’d have to go to the pond. But he wasn’t stupid enough to do it in daylight. Once night fell, he brought his sharpened machete and utmost caution. 

He didn’t bring enough. 

Someone was outside of his den. The two of them looked at each other with wide eyes; they were fucking kids, after all. His name was Daichi Sawamura, but that didn’t matter once Sugawara reached for his machete, which Daichi knocked out of his hand with his foot before he could pull it out him. It stuck out in the snow. 

This was a slap in the face. Sugawara lunged towards him, aiming for his groin, to which the other male turned around, now putting him in a headlock. Scrunching his brows, he stomped on his foot and elbowed him in the gut. Once he got out of his grip, he went for his face, knocking him in his teeth. His punches and strikes were filled with nothing but hate, superiority, and a desire to win. Daichi knocked his wrist to the side, using it to knock him down. Once he straddled his stomach, he pulled out a gun. Even to this day, he wondered why he didn’t just shoot him in the first place.  _ Was he scared?  _ Either way, he pulled the trigger, right into his damn heart. 

When Sugawara came to, he was in a room of all white. He had an IV in his arm. So he’d survived. Why did it feel so...boring? His auburn eyes stared boredly at the hospital’s tan wall. Now what?

“Mr. Sugawara, you have a visitor.” 

His mother? Maybe the maid? To his surprise, it was the death god. Not the person you’d want to see in the hospital. He leaned in the doorway, putting out his cigarette on his jacket before dropping it on the floor. 

“Congratulations, kid,” he began, sitting right by his side. It took awhile for Sugawara to answer. He slowly turned towards his visitor with a tiny grunt. 

“So...what now?” to which Ukai chuckled. 

“Nothing, kid. Nothing happens. You’re a god now. You don’t have to do shit for the rest of our life, isn’t that nice?”

Yeah. 

He supposed it was. 


	5. iii. telegraph ave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Nonsense,” the god told him once he got his bearings, “Why don’t you just have sex with me instead?”

Oikawa’s schedule changed drastically ever since he’d been enlisted as Sugawara’s servant. Every morning, he bathed at 4 AM for 10 minutes, cleaned the house for an hour, then went outside to gather breakfast materials. To do that, he had to go back into town. There weren’t any carriages available at this time, so he decided to walk. It was too silent, so he hummed to himself so he’d have some sort of company.

Thievery was incredibly common in town, so vendors weren’t so stupid as to leave their assets in plain sight. With only one gold piece in satchel and not a single shop open, the male had to resort to breaking the law. Anything for his god. Besides, it wasn’t like this was his first time doing wrong; he rubbed his hands together like a fly. 

While the homeless slept along the brick road in their own shit and piss, the brunette was busy scheming outside of a bakery. For now, Sugawara would have to be satisfied with just bread and other pastries prepared to his liking. Then again...what was his liking? He cocked his brow at the thought.  _ We know absolutely nothing about each other,  _ he said to himself as he picked a lock as quietly as could. He grabbed a bobby pin from a sleeping homeless girl. Without her, his master would go hungry, and it’d be embarrassing to ask for money this early in their relationship.  _ Work relationship, that is. Purely work.  _

The lock fell right into his hands. Stuffing it into his pocket, he opened the door with a slight creak. Turning around, he inspected all of the sleeping people in the street. They slept like bricks. Closing the door behind him, he was left to his own devices. Before him was a counter full of bread and kneaded dough from the day previous. After sniffing and feeling at loaves with his fingers, he took his blouse off and wrapped the ones he was satisfied with in his new makeshift “basket”. He also took some dough. It was good to have something to work with for future meals. 

When he finished with the bakery, he quietly stepped out, making sure to re-lock the establishment. A few stores down was a fromagerie. There, a young couple sold cheeses of all kinds. Goat cheese sounded wonderful with the loaves he had. Hopefully it suited Sugawara’s tastes. After taking a few truckles and stuffing them into his new basket, he headed back to the castle (he locked up again, of course). He felt bad for interfering with someone’s profit, of course, but his own life was more important. Not only was serving a god an honor, but it was nice to be alive while doing it. 

His mind flashed to the mannequin. 

Right. It was just a mannequin. 

Heading to the castle took a hefty hour. The sun was beginning to peek out from the hills. She shone over other nations, but this one was always last due to its towering mountains surrounding the town like a ring. Thus the roosters remained silent. They awaited their cues. Once he entered the kitchen, he began his work. The bread was already prepared; with that, he cut it and spread the goat cheese along the inside. On top of the cheese he spread garlic cloves, parsley, peppercorns, thyme, and a bayleaf, all ingredients he was lucky enough to find in the kitchen. On top of all of the seasoning he spritzed some olive oil, which he let sit until Sugawara awoke. He heard footsteps coming from his room, causing him to rush with his rushed breakfast and clean water. 

“Master,” he began, presenting him with his breakfast on one knee. 

“Good morning to you too. I was wondering when you’d make me something; I’ve been waiting for an hour. You may speak.”

“My apologies.”

“It happens,” he replied coldly, taking a slice of bread before inspecting it, “I’ve never seen this before.” His response was much more lenient than he expected. Regardless, he’d do better and be more prepared. Speaking of which, the idea of lunch and dinner stressed him. Stealing in broad daylight was possible, but much more difficult with more eyes to watch. 

“A-Ah. It’s very common where I’m from.” 

He took a bite. “Well. It’s very delicious,” he said nonchalantly, taking another bite.

“Thank you. It’s an honor.” 

“I’m aware.” They stared at each other, their brown eyes with two completely different intentions. Sugawara’s exerted dominance, while Oikawa’s were full of accomplishing his tasks. One could call it submission. The master continued to eat while the servant stood by his side, looking up at the ceiling. Watching a god eat was disrespectful. It was doglike, almost begging for food. A servant had to remain standing by their master in case they had any immediate requests. That’s what Iwaizumi told him, at least. “What are your plans today, Oikawa?”

He remained staring at the ceiling. “After you finish your breakfast, I shall have my own-”

“And what will you eat?”

“An onion.”

“That’s no good, my dear,” he cooed, examining his slice of bread, “You can have some bread too. You’re useless to me if you starve,” to which Oikawa nodded. Responding to a guy like him was intimidating. “And what are you doing after your filling breakfast?”

“I will clean your castle.”

“Very good. And then?”

“Make lunch and dinner.”

“And what’s on the menu for lunch and dinner?”

“Boeuf bourguignon with assorted vegetables, followed by chicken feet, jin dui, xiao long bao, gow choi gau, and fried rice (all dim sum dishes).”

“And how will you get the funds for such items? Because what you’re making won’t be cheap. Look at me, Oikawa.” He did. Now that he thought about it, Oikawa knew he didn’t have any particular talents. How could he gain that much money in such a short amount of time? 

It clicked. 

“Prostitution,” he stated rather boldly. Yes, he would let strangers have their way with his body to satisfy his master. He was being paid a decent sum, after all. Sugawara looked at him wide-eyed before bursting out into a hearty laugh. His cheeks heated up.  _ Was that an inappropriate answer? _

“Nonsense,” the god told him once he got his bearings, “Why don’t you just have sex with me instead?” His voice was low. He reached out towards his servant, tilting his chin upwards with his thumb and index. Oikawa flushed. 

“O-Okay.” It would’ve been a better response if his voice didn’t crack like that. 


	6. special affair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you like being disciplined by a god?”
> 
> “Y-Yes.”

Sex with a god was one of the highest honors anyone could ever experience. Despite that biologically, the fertility god couldn’t impregnate a man, knowing that his seed would be inside of him made the servant’s heart race. In this moment, not attending school and losing his previous job were the best decisions Oikawa had ever made in his lifetime. He held onto Sugawara’s torso whilst he rode his tongue, soft mewls and whimpers leaving those pretty plump pink lips that contrasted his wan skin in the best of ways. The male on top of him exerted beauty, especially when those silver eyebrows crinkled in pleasure and sweat dribbled down his sideburn and onto white sheets.

“O-Oikawa,” he’d sputtered out whilst riding his tongue. Even hearing his name made him hard. It was almost instantaneous when he did that. “Tongue feels good...Rubs all of my good spots...Feels really wet..” The brunette held onto his thighs with his forearms. HIs grip squeezed against his skin, but he wanted to make sure that his partner felt nothing but utmost pleasure. 

He’d earned himself another squeal. How long have they been at this for? 10? 30? Maybe even an hour? But Oikawa didn’t care. Pleasing Sugawara made him eager. Seeing his little reactions made his cock twitch. He could get used to this. Sex and getting paid 100 diamonds? So what if he died? All common sense left his dopamine-ridden brain.

Once Sugawara had his share of pleasure, he flipped them over, his own sweat smearing his pillow. He now looked up at his servant. 

“Have you ever been eaten out?” he asked, running his fingers along his tanner form.

“I’m afraid not,” he replied in complete honesty, “I’m still a virgin,” to which the god chuckled. He gave Oikawa’s thigh a squeeze. 

“I’ll make sure to treat you well. So well...You’ll get addicted to my seed.” He hid his mouth behind three fingers: his index, middle, and ring. Behind them, he smiled slyly. Oikawa, meanwhile, had cheeks as red as turnips. He was so easy to read. Sugawara continued, withdrawing his three fingers from his face. “But first, you’ll need to clean yourself out. When you’re done, meet me back here and bring the lavender oil.”

“Yessir.” 

Whilst he was in the tub, Oikawa began to clean himself. His face cringed at the thought of the angels and satyrs that lined the walls watching him. They were perverts. When he finished cleaning, he stepped out of the tub and took the vial of lavender oil with him. He deemed clothes unnecessary and decided to meet Sugawara in his birthday suit. 

Oikawa stepped into his quarters. The god nearly spit out his wine. It seemed his servant had more to his body than his uniform displayed; the ultimate deception. 

“Come here, lovely,” Sugawara cooed, pulling his servant’s hips towards him. His hand ran down his abdominals. He seemed pleased, with how his eyelids drooped and how his mouth pulled itself into a lazy smile. Never in a million years did he think he could get high off of the male figure. Oikawa enticed him. 

Being touched like that made him feel like a science project. The taller male tensed.  _ You’re in front of a god,  _ he told himself. His reminder made his shoulders droop and jaw unclench itself. Right. Sugawara would take care of him, no matter what. He was in good hands. Ushijima told tall tales, and the mannequin was nothing more than a mannequin. All logical thought and worries left his mind. Everything was sex. Everything was pleasure.  _ Succumb to the pleasure.  _ Once the deity slid his tongue inside of his hole, a jolt of euphoria ran through his body. His brows scrunched while he let out a tiny whine. 

Sugawara waited for a response. His eyes looked up at the shivering man on top of him. 

“Please do it again,” he begged, trying his best to stay still. However, he couldn’t help but wiggle his ass before him. 

“Maybe, if I feel like it.”

Drool dripped down the corner of his bottom lip, which he shamelessly slurped up. 

The god thought he looked like a dog.  _ Maybe I should get him a collar, _ he thought to himself. Once more, his tongue plunged into his twitching hole. 

Oikawa squealed in delight, attempting to grab onto Sugawara’s hair as gently as he could. Being rough with someone like him wasn’t a god idea. “M...Mmf…” he mumbled while rocking back and forth on his face. Sugawara rubbed at his right asscheek some before spanking him. Nice and crisp. It echoed throughout the castle, and it left his submissive absolutely breathless. 

Not only did he cum on the pillow, but they both realized one thing:  _ Oikawa Tooru was a masochist.  _

Sugawara chuckled, withdrawing his tongue from his twitching hole. His index traced around the puckered ring. The brunette’s breathing quickened ever so slightly. He wanted something to fill him up, and showed that by spreading his asscheeks. He raised his ass in the air, letting out a soft whimper. 

“Good boy,” he praised whilst lathering his right hand with lavender oil, “Very good boy. Do you want to be spanked again? Do you want to cum again?”

He nodded. “Felt good, felt very good.” They both watched as Sugawara spread his fingers. The lubricant became webbed; a very arousing sight for both of them. The deity licked across his bottom lip, placing his left hand on his submissive’s back. Oikawa shivered, simply looking ahead. He trusted Sugawara enough. He knew what he was doing. 

“N-Nngh!” 

Finger insertion was followed by a crisp spank. Two spanks. Three. Four. Oikawa’s skin became red and tender, and bloomed into the shape of his master’s hand. He bit his lip. 

“Do you like being disciplined by a god?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Very good. I will be moving my fingers now.” Sugawara wrapped his arm around his partner’s torso. His index and middle finger pressed against his walls, thus stimulating his submissive’s g-spot. He watched in amusement as Oikawa’s eyes fluttered in pleasure. The brunette squirmed ever so slightly in his arms during his prostate massage; it was odd to have fingers in there, let alone a cock. But he liked it. Being massaged in that area made his lower half tingle. 

Oikawa opened his mouth and allowed his pink tongue to droop. Saliva dripped down onto the sheets, something neither of them cared about. Through absolute nonsense, he told his dominant that he wanted to suck his cock. Sugawara grinned in amusement, slowly withdrawing his fingers. 

“Do you trust me?” the god asked, running his thumb down his wet fleshy muscle. His question was met with a nod; how pleasing. The silver-haired male slid his cock into his mouth with ease, entangling his fingers into his servant’s hair. “Right, just like that,” he cooed, “Make sure to g-” Oikawa took the words right out of his mouth. He made sure his deity’s cock hit the back of his throat with every movement of his head. Sugawara deserved the best. He’d give him the best. What kept him going was the flushed, almost drunk with pleasure expression that blossomed all over the shorter male’s face. 

They wanted each other. Badly. However, Sugawara couldn’t cum just yet, so he pulled his cock out of his submissive’s mouth, who looked a little disappointed. He’d fix that. Seeing that his hole was nice and loose, he pushed his face into the mattress. He was never one for seeing faces when fucking. At this moment, his partner was nothing but a hole. It wasn’t a crime to think that way. And holes needed to be filled; filled he did. 

Oikawa’s eyes widened at his cock entering his ass. He gripped onto the dirtied sheets, trying his best to stay quiet. He looked around, looking, looking for a distraction. Angels along the walls. Satyrs prancing around. Demons burning in hell. All mythical beings that gave him no sense of reassurance to the foreign sensation. He panted heavily, looking back at his dominant. 

“Let me know when you’re ready,” he said, running his hands down his back. He then leaned into his ear. “You feel spectacular, by the way. I can’t wait to make you scream.” An expression from a god that’d make anyone blush. Oikawa put his fingertips to his cheeks. They were burning up.

“I’m ready.”

“Good. Let me know what you want.” 

A nod. Sugawara began thrusting into his ass. He held onto the bedpost with one hand to keep it stable. The other wrapped around his torso for some form of intimacy. Oikawa let out soft whines and whimpers, making sure to press his ass against him. Their skin clapping together echoed throughout the room, but that didn’t matter. No one else was there to hear it. Except maybe the mannequin.

“Did you hear me? I said, how does that feel?”

“Feels really good, master,” Oikawa whined, turning around so they could kiss. Sugawara wasn’t one for kissing while he was pounding someone’s hole, but since his dear submissive had been rather competent as of late, he’d let it slide. He began drilling at his hole, showing it no mercy. At the same time, their tongues sucked at each other ever so hungrily. It was just the two of them in that room. They were fucking as if they were the last humans on Earth. 

They switched positions. Now Oikawa could see Sugawara’s face. How he smirked with every thrust. His dominant always liked positions of power. There was nothing wrong with that. The shorter male wrapped his legs around his waist, now going harder than ever before. OIkawa gasped, his eyes fluttering shut. 

“Look at me,” the god insisted. 

“I c-can’t.”

“Look at me before I pry your eyes open.”

_ Why did incitements of violence make their cocks twitch?  _ Something they’d never have the answers to. 

“Please don’t do that,” Oikawa insisted, furrowing his brows. They made eye contact. His dominant smirked as sweat dribbled down his sideburn.  _ Sugawara wanted to destroy him.  _ Oikawa opened his mouth and slobbered after the shorter male had shoved his fingers in. He couldn’t form proper words anymore. Everything had gone blank. 

“You like that?” the deity asked, chuckling as he shoved his fingers in his mouth. Oikawa’s tongue licked along his digits, making sure to give each and every one of them love. He gave a very pathetic attempt in slurping up his drool.

“Yesh,” he replied with a squeal. His back arched. Sugawara looked at him coldly and pushed his torso downwards. 

“You’re going to cum?”

“Yesh,” he whimpered. 

“Not yet. I always cum first from now on.” Those kind auburn eyes were nothing but sadistic. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. You look like I just kicked your puppy, dear.” 

“Wanna cuhn,” he cried, ugly tears plopping down his cheeks. Sugawara chuckled at his stupid pleasure-ridden brain.  _ Men were so simple!  _

“I know, I know. I’m almost there. Then, you can experience euphoria, and then you’ll be addicted to me. Doesn’t that sound great?” 

A furious nod. 

“Good boy.” Those two words made Oikawa’s lower body tingle furiously. His toes curled, and his grip tightened around the pale man’s waist. That slutty mouth of his let out more garbled moans and groans and whimpers and cries against his god’s fingers, and the tears never ceased. When Sugawara released his load into his asshole, the brunette squealed in glee! Tears never streamed down his face faster! “You can cum now,” the deity told him, giving his ass a rough squeeze. “Or do you need a little more stimulation?”

“A lil more schtimulation,” he pleaded against his digits. Sugawara decided that Oikawa could ride him with his hands bound behind his back, something the two of them ended up enjoying. His submissive ended up cumming three times until his body shook in pleasure. He looked absolutely stupid. 

But that’s how Sugawara liked all of his men to look.

Stupid. 


	7. teen idle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa was somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be.

When Oikawa came to, next to him sat a satchel of diamonds. Right. He’d been a hole in order to pay for dinner. Ultimately, their little entanglement ended up being useless. Next to the velvet bag was a note in perfect calligraphy that read:

_ Went to an emergency meeting. Take care of the house while I’m away. _

_ -Sugawara _

And so, he had the entire estate to himself. He could’ve done a few things: cook for himself, clean, explore the forbidden rooms–there were too many options. For now, he’d be a good servant and clean up the manor. If he still had some extra time, then he considered looking at the mannequin that haunted his thoughts every second of the day. 

The brunette grabbed a broom and mop. It was time to clean. During times like this, he thought of his mother. His memories of her were few in number, but still present in his mind. She was a sad-looking woman with wrinkles around her eyes. Every time she saw her little son, she cleaned. And cleaned. They never talked. She would simply scrub at the floor while he bombarded her with questions regarding the world he knew nothing about. Life was like this for a while; his mind erased most of the details. The next thing he remembered was the red. Orange. The heat that clashed against their thatch home. Luckily, he managed to get out in time, but the woman who had looked at him so sadly remained crushed under all of the debris. He’d called her “mother” at some point.

He didn’t cry. Not from when the villagers came, to when he came to the orphanage. Other children existed, just like him, without parents. They died or gave them up, and allowed them to sleep in the barn where horses shat and pissed. If they got up early enough, they were allowed to go to the river. Oikawa always went along. He couldn’t sleep anymore anyways. Whenever he closed his eyes, he could only see red and orange. His sheets would get all hot. His body would get all sweaty. He slept two hours, if he was lucky. So he decided to go to the river when the moon was still up with the other children.

Even though none of the villagers were awake at the time, that didn’t mean that the river was free. At its edge was a basin. Those who wanted to use the river, whether it be for bathing, hand-washing, or drinking water, had to make an offering. Sometimes the river god sat at the river’s edge and waited for them. Tonight was one of those nights. 

Oikawa went with his foster brothers and sisters to take a bath. When they stood at the river’s edge, they saw a tall man standing in the water. He turned around at the sound of a twig snapping. The children all hid behind the brunette, who simply admired how his blonde hair gleamed under the moonlight.

“You should all be in bed,” said the river god. Once again, he looked up at the moon and stars. “Why are you all here?”

“We want to take a bath,” Oikawa said bravely. 

“A bunch of grimy rats want to take a bath. And why should I let you do that, in my river?”

“Because we have offerings.”

“And what are they?”

After a bit of rustling, the orphans placed a satchel at the river’s edge. It was disrespectful to touch a god’s hand without their permission. The blonde peered through the bag, his glasses glinting in disgust. What was he supposed to do with…

“Rags?”

“They are all we have, sir.”

“Then I’m afraid you cannot bathe here.”

“It was a jest,” Oikawa interrupted, furrowing his brows, “I am the offering. When I am of age, I will dedicate myself to the gods.”

Now that he thought of it, seeing that he was Sugawara’s servant, he’d kept his promise. Like a good little servant, he knelt and began to scrub at the already immaculate floors.  _ We wouldn’t want any dust build-up. What if my master had a dust allergy?  _ he thought to himself,  _ Things like that could be fatal. I’d be a god-killer, and then I’d be killed in the town’s square.  _ Nobody wanted that fate. 

His thoughts wandered. After he offered himself to the gods, it seemed almost coincidence that the church adopted him. In this small village, many churches existed to worship the many deities that helped regular humans thrive. Or at least, nourish themselves. Not everyone lived their best lives, and in the eyes of the many churches that stood tall, that was their own damn fault. 

The nuns took little Oikawa in. They were sisters of the god of flame, a man named Kyoutani Kentarou. He stood at a grand height of 5’10” (179 cm). His hair was extremely short with stripes of black that ran across the back of his head.  _ A rather strange haircut,  _ the brunette mused to himself. And with that tallness and strange haircut came an unpleasant fiery personality that exploded at the tiniest mistakes. One of the sisters accidentally bumped shoulders with him. In that moment, he dug his nails through her torso at a force so strong; she now knelt in front of everyone else, coughing up that familiar copper fluid that kept humans alive. 

Of course the event traumatized the boy. However, showing symptoms of weakness would get him killed. Doing anything incorrectly would get him killed. Flame gave organisms life; at the same time, it destroyed everything in its path with its reddish hues. Oikawa stood in front of the now crisp nun.  _ She probably had loved ones _ . 

Oikawa shook his head quickly, making sure to rinse the marble tiles with water. They would soon dry; the only rooms left to clean were the forbidden ones along the hallway to the bathroom. 

Meanwhile, Sugawara sat amongst deities from other nations. Most of them were wrinkled, just like raisins. The fertility god wrinkled his nose at the thought of the texture. Ah.  _ Focus,  _ he reminded himself,  _ You’re here for...What was he here for?  _ Important beings bantered about nonsense; the state of their villages, nations, marriages, alliances, contracts they had with humans, servants, and even how they expected there to be snacks present. This meeting had to be urgent. The last time he’d sat at this elliptical table was when he was officially given the title of the fertility god. 

He’d just killed his mom, her blood dripping from his fingers. There could be only one. 

_ BAM BAM BAM!  _ The gavel said, forcing him to look at its owner. The first god stroked at his beard, looking down at all of the others before him. They quieted almost immediately. 

“Welcome,” he said, his voice raspy. “Allow us to begin this emergency meeting.” Usually, one would expect chatter and panic, but everyone remained silent. They knew that if they spoke right after him they would be decapitated almost immediately. “I’ve called you here because someone is on the verge of uncovering something very important about us.” 

_ And what is that?  _ Sugawara thought.

“That we’re nothing but human.”

Deities looked at each other wide-eyed, their legs bouncing in pure anxiety. Their hearts raced, something the supreme god could feel through his immortal being. As for the fertility god, his vision flashed red, just like a flare had gone off. 

_ Oikawa was somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be.  _


	8. runner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bright. Red. Hair. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi !! this chapter has gore !! if you're squeamish i suggest skipping it!! just know that oikawa's in fucking trouble and thank u for the support :)

“It sure is dark in here,” Oikawa murmured, lighting a candle. Cleaning up a pitch black room was hard; it didn’t smell, but it also didn’t feel right to the brunette that all the other rooms were clean. His voice echoed. It reminded him of what it was like to truly be lonely. His mouth pulled downwards into a frown at the thought. Sometimes, it was better to not think. Someone told him that, but his brain blurred their face. Perhaps they were unimportant after all. 

The candle sat on the floor, just millimeters from wherever he decided to scrub. Cleanliness was next to godliness. His body rocked back and forth with the brush on the cold stone floor. How much time passed? When would Sugawara come home? Would he be proud? Would he be paid extra? He sure hoped so. He thought of making a nice meal for himself. 

“Tender turkey..The meat just falls off the bone and melts right in your mouth. That sounds amazing.” He sounded like a fool, talking to himself in the dark. But it was better to be a fool than vulnerable to whatever laid in front of him in the pitch black room. “I could get some vegetables from the market, season them all nice...Maybe add some mashed potatoes and turkey gravy...Tooru, you’re the best cook in the world.” 

His brush bumped into something solid. Oikawa blinked twice, slowly approaching it. It felt...fleshy. It had hair on its arms, but felt incredibly cold and skinny. As his fingers trailed up its appendage, there was a certain moisture. A fluid had touched his fingertips. There was also a certain dips and ridges along the fleshy material, with more and more of that fluid. He cautiously brought his fingers to his noise. 

_ It smelled like copper.  _

Now he was curious. What did the god of fertility have to hide? The object in question was rather light. In one arm, Oikawa held the mystery object, and in the other rested the candle, whose plate the servant held onto ever so tightly. He was trembling.  _ It’s an animal. It’s a dead pig. That’s what he was hiding. Sugawara had a passion for butchery,  _ so he reassured himself. 

The brunette clamped his mouth shut when he reached the light. In his left arm he held a body. An incredibly malnourished one at that. Its cheeks were hollowed and its skin had a chalky grey tint. It had no eyes, but it didn’t surprise Oikawa anymore if his new master gouged them out with his fingernails. 

He was rendered speechless. His vision blurred for a moment, and his hearing muffled. Shaking his head quickly, his eyes focused once more. He had to continue examining the body. The corpse had no upper lip. It was shredded, most likely before death. But the lack of an upper lip allowed the male to see that it was missing  _ all  _ of its teeth. Most likely, once again, before death. 

Sugawara couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t do this. He was too kind to do this. Ushijima was just spouting bullshit; he was jealous of his new income. Oikawa was a rich man! He would finally buy himself a home, and all that shitty bartender would have was that shitty bar! He wanted to deny the fact that the corpse before him had also been disemboweled; his abdomen was nothing but a dark chasm. Just like that forbidden room. 

Along the arms were bite marks. They tore at the flesh and exposed at the bones. Was his new master a cannibal as well? His eyes trailed towards its hands. All ten fingers were broken and all fingernails were missing. So much had happened to one body. If Sugawara did do this, he had to have a reason. Maybe this thing murdered children. Regardless, Oikawa’s mind continued to run at the speed of light. 

And the reason why the body was so light? The entire lower half was missing. Cut cleanly off. Oikawa swallowed, even though his throat had run completely dry. But if there was one thing he would never forget, it would be the bright red hair the body possessed. 

_ Bright. Red. Hair.  _

Just like the metallic fluid all over his fingers. His first concern was to put that shit back where he got it from. He did respect the dead, he truly did, but seeing this corpse made him want to throw it back into the room he got it from. And throw it he did. It landed with a soft  _ thud _ . 

Out of sight, out of mind. 

On the other side of town, the fertility god’s vision continued to flash red, almost like an alarm. Not too long ago, he had a microchip installed into his occipital lobe. Such technologies weren’t available in his hometown, so he traveled halfway across the globe to have an alarm system installed in his brain. 

Oikawa had tripped a wire installed in one of the forbidden rooms. In order to disarm the microchip, Sugawara had to return home and type a four-digit code on a keypad hidden in his master bedroom. His head pounded as the god of beauty began to speak about her concerns.

“If the villagers find out that this whole system is bullshit, they’ll revolt.”

“So what do you suggest?”

Her answer became muffled to Sugawara’s ears. He swallowed, his skin becoming a sickly white. His mouth drooped. All he could do was rub his temples until the meeting was over. When it finished, he took a carriage to his estate, the ground’s bumps and rickets worsening his migraine.  _ When he got home...Oh, when he got home...Oikawa Tooru was a dead fucking man.  _

He’d shove the corpse’s flesh down his throat until he couldn’t breathe and gouge his eyeballs out with his fingernails and eat at his flesh and break his ribs and rip them out of his abdomen and break his fingers and boil them and feed them to the rats–Sugawara looked down at his crotch. He was hard. Violence always got him hard. If he were the war god, he knew that he would be in a constant state of orgasm. Alas, he scrunched his brows in pain. The red wouldn’t stop. 

The carriage came to a halt in front of his manor; Sugawara hastily paid the driver one diamond, which was more than enough for his troubles. Oikawa jumped when he heard the door slam open; by this time, he had dinner ready for his deity. 

First order of business was the alarm. The god stormed to his room, fumbling around for the keypad. It was behind the dresser. 

  1. _System disarmed._



His vision returned to normal. He swallowed, looking at the ceiling. Before jumping into murder, it would be nice to have a drink first.


	9. love lockdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “My crimes are inexcusable, my god,” Oikawa slurred, his eyes looking down at his broken finger and missing nails. 
> 
> “I agree,” he moaned, running his blood-stained fingers down his own face. Pale, now covered in red. He scrunched his silvery brows together, gnawing on his well-maintained fingers. His softly heaved as a moist noise came from the corpse. Oikawa went in and out of consciousness. When he came to, he found his mouth pried open by his master. His silver-haired deity pressed against his jaw, making him chew a foreign substance. It tasted like pork. Really wet pork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi this is a graphic chapter, happy early halloween!! this has torture in it so if ur squeamish pls avoid it

Everything was so quick. At first, they had a normal conversation, normal enough to be considered small talk. Then, everything faded to black. 

After Sugawara had his drink, he scowled inside the shot glass. He noticed a tiny spot sitting at the very bottom. Anything less than spotless irritated him, as well as anything imperfect. He grit his teeth, his grip tightening so much so the shot glass shattered in his hand and onto the floor. Red. Red, just like the alarm. Red dripped down his hand and onto the marble tiles. “Oh dear,” was all he had to say. 

When Oikawa awoke, he sat in one of the forbidden rooms. Rather, he was bound to one of them by chains. A pungent odor ransacked his poor, unsuspecting nostrils. It almost certainly burned at his nostril hairs, making him scrunch his face to prevent himself from gagging. At the same time, he made sure to move his hands and feet in an attempt to maintain circulation. As a servant, he would be absolutely useless without limbs. He might as well die. 

Then again, death was probably more imminent than he suspected. Death was the only certain thing in life. They balanced each other out, their connection like two lovers. But what happened afterwards? Did the death god come to massacre his body and feed it to the dogs, like what the nuns told him? Or was that some stupid guise to get him to behave? He shook his head. 

Oikawa squeezed his eyes shut and furrowed his brows. When all was wrong with the world, he prayed to the god of mercy, Goshiki Tsutomu. Hopefully he would hear his prayer. (Unfortunately, at the moment, he was in an orgy with his loyal servants. No one would come to his aid. But he liked to believe that he did something right for once.) The door opened, its squeaky hinges screaming into the servant’s ears. At its frame stood a familiar silhouette; a somewhat curvy man in sheer, white robes now stained in red. Light shone through them, almost revealing his pale figure. 

He’d never known true fear until this moment. Sweat leaked from each and every pore onto the cold ground. Sugawara clenched onto some tool in his hand. The brunette couldn’t help but wonder what facial expression the darkness masked. Perhaps it was better that way. As the deity stepped forward, his mental prayers grew more aggressive, begging Goshiki for a distraction of some kind. Someone could knock on his door. Maybe Sugawara could have a heart attack. Maybe the weapon wasn’t good enough. Something, anything. 

“Tooru,” Sugawara said, his voice like a knife scraping a sink, “You’ve committed a crime.”

“I beg for mercy.”

“You’ve got the wrong god,” he cooed, slipping the weapon underneath his fingernail. Jerking it upwards, the nail popped upwards, just like a car’s trunk. Oikawa’s curdling scream echoed throughout the room, something so satisfying that Sugawara felt a familiar heat spread to a place between his legs. His upper lip twitched into a smile. He could never get sick of torture. 

Oikawa felt a warm fluid drip down his middle finger. He bled and hyperventilated. His teeth made a soft crunching sound as he gritted them once more. Sugawara, once again, popped another fingernail out its bed. 

“Scream, you stupid pig!” the god said, his face now flushed. His pink plump lips were moist with sexual arousal. He rubbed his thighs together.

“I BEG FOR MERCY! MY CRIMES ARE UNFORGIVEN-” Another fingernail. This time, he added to the pain by breaking his pinky finger. The servant felt a shard of bone stick out of his flesh. Adrenaline began to run through his body. Things didn’t hurt anymore, but that didn’t matter to Sugawara. He was playing with a toy, in his mind. He drooled as he continued to pop nails. When nail torture bored him, he went over to the pungent smell. 

Light finally filled the room. If Oikawa could, he would clamp his mouth. A dead body stared him in the eye, also chained. Unlike the brunette, however, the corpse had bite marks all over its rotting form. Even the insects didn’t want to eat something that decrepit. 

“My crimes are inexcusable, my god,” Oikawa slurred, his eyes looking down at his broken finger and missing nails. 

“I agree,” he moaned, running his blood-stained fingers down his own face. Pale, now covered in red. He scrunched his silvery brows together, gnawing on his well-maintained fingers. His softly heaved as a moist noise came from the corpse. Oikawa went in and out of consciousness. When he came to, he found his mouth pried open by his master. His silver-haired deity pressed against his jaw, making him chew a foreign substance. It tasted like pork. Really wet pork. 

“Yummy, isn’t it?” Sugawara asked. “Watching you eat flesh is enough to make me orgasm!” 

Flesh.  _ Flesh. He chewed on a human being.  _ His taste buds cowered in pure disgust. He felt his face turn green. But Sugawara applied pressure to his mouth. The consequences would certainly be worse if he spat out a meal his deity offered him, if one could even call it that. And so he hesitantly swallowed, the bolus traveling ever so slowly down his esophagus. The fertility god shoved his blood-covered fingers in Oikawa’s mouth, feeling around for any excess flesh in that wet cavern of his. 

“Good boy,” he told him, running his bloody, now-saliva-covered fingers through his once pure and brown locks, “And then when I kill you, I’ll eat you. You saw the body, didn’t you? I don’t know how you couldn’t have.” 

Red. Red flashed in Oikawa’s mind. The bright red hair, the torso missing. The upper lip missing. Everything was in disarray, and his brain fought to stay awake and sane whilst he prayed to some false god. 

Maybe it was Goshiki answering, in Oikawa’s shattered mind. Really, it was a coincidence. A knock on the door saved his life. Someone heard him, someone wanted him to live! Sugawara scowled, letting the brunette out of his chains. He had a reputation to uphold, after all. 

“Be a good boy and clean the house, yes?”

“Yes,” he barely managed, his forehead on the cold, stone blood-stained floor. Shit and piss probably entered his forehead’s pores, but he didn’t care. Everything spun. He wanted to collapse and throw up for hours. 

“Good,” the deity replied, leaving the door open behind him. Once he left, Oikawa began to weep. Not because he was sad, but grateful. The gods were so kind! They cared about him, and they wanted him to live!

However, Goshiki, the god of mercy, could’ve given less of a shit about a servant named Oikawa Tooru. 


	10. stigma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “My apologies, but I have arrived for your main purpose. I would like a child.”
> 
> Sugawara drank at his tea, raising his brows as the warm liquid rushed down his esophagus. “A child?”
> 
> “A child. It’s been...incredibly lonely without my husband, you see,” the bartender said, his eyes squinting ever so slightly. 
> 
> “I would imagine. To bring you some comfort, I could tell you about him. About what he was like before he was under my care.”

“Who the fuck is here at this hour?” Sugawara grumbled, wiping his hands clean. He looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes had bags under them. Deep down, he knew that he was staring at the corpse of a human being. After taking a deep breath, he opened the door with the calm smile he always gave. Before him stood the local bartender; he was a tall man of a rather bulky build. His green hair was carefully parted so his face was fully visible. His face always looked aloof; perhaps it was the sorrow of knowing that his husband had died in the very mansion that the fertility god resided. The two of them said each other’s names simultaneously in a jumble. 

“Ushijima Wakatoshi.”

“Sugawara Koushi.”

They both tensed. After a few moments of brief silence, the deity hesitantly moved to the side to let him in. He’d assumed that Oikawa had cleaned up by now, so he rang his bell. Moments later, a familiar face to Ushijima made its way downstairs. It was hard to look at Oikawa. The bartender watched as the servant poured tea with a shaking form; his fingers were broken, and his nail beds were left naked. Oikawa himself looked as if he wanted to vomit. Regardless, Ushijima stared into his cup of tea. For now, he would have to ignore the obvious signs of abuse. 

“May I ask why you’re here?”

“My apologies, but I have arrived for your main purpose. I would like a child.”

Sugawara drank at his tea, raising his brows as the warm liquid rushed down his esophagus. “A child?”

“A child. It’s been...incredibly lonely without my husband, you see,” the bartender said, his eyes squinting ever so slightly. 

“I would imagine. To bring you some comfort, I could tell you about him. About what he was like before he was under my care.”

Ushijima’s face softened.

“I assume that’s a yes.”

“Of course.”

“Before Tendou met you, he was a god. The god of murder. When people wanted other people to die, they would make a contract with him. Their targets would be dead in 24 hours,” he stated, taking his spoon out of his tea and sucking on it, “Rather efficient if you ask me. I don’t know why he quit, but he did. One day, he went to the council of gods and renounced his title. In turn, all of his possessions were taken and his loved ones were executed accordingly. It was a big ceremony.” 

Ushijima didn’t look pleased, but it explained why his husband never talked about his family. It explained why he was left alone at the bar the day they met, as well as why he looked so sad and empty that day. That face was one he’d never forget. Sugawara continued. 

“So he leaves the rich part of town by law, he stumbles into the bar. I think you know how the rest goes.” He pointed his spoon at Ushijima. “He works for me for a bit so you two can have a future together, then leaves. It’s a shame though. His hair was such a nice red color.” 

Oikawa’s eyes widened. The ceramic teapot shook in his broken hands. Bright. Red. Hair. The former god, Tendou Satori, had been massacred, and his husband didn’t even know it. The person that Ushijima had been looking for for so long laid in one of the forbidden rooms, his torso gone and parts of his flesh digested at some point by the fertility god. He was a cruel one, and everyone in the room knew it. Sugawara, meanwhile, looked over at Oikawa’s shaking figure. His fear turned him on once again; who knew that someone so broken could look so delectable? He supposed he could have him around for longer. 

“I agree,” Ushijima muttered, interrupting the deity’s erotic thoughts. It was nice to hear about his husband’s past, even if it was painful. His chest hurt a little, so he drank some more tea. Sugawara had thought for a few moments about poisoning it with cyanide and adding almonds to it just for fun, but he decided to play nice for today. 

“I digress. So you would like a child. Allow me to set my terms. Tooru, get me my journal and quill. They’re in my study, on my desk. You hurry now.” While Oikawa was gone, Sugawara set the following terms: 

_ The baby would arrive in a month. _

_ He was not to discuss how Sugawara obtained the baby. _

_ He was to pay 10,000 gold pieces beforehand, even if the baby were to die of illness and causes out of his hands.  _

_ The gender requested, if applicable, is not guaranteed.  _

The corpse flashed in Oikawa’s mind. Tendou. Tendou Satori laid in one of the forbidden rooms. He’d seen it recently, how his legs were nowhere to be seen. Red. Red. Red. Red.  _ Bright. Red. Hair.  _ Oikawa broke out into a sweat, crawling under the table to make himself small. He didn’t exist. Nothing existed. He dreamt all of this happened, and he would soon wake up into his mother’s loving arms. After squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, he opened them soon. 

Bandages tightly hugged at his broken digits. The white room still had angels that mocked him on its walls. He got out from under the desk and retrieved the journal that his master had requested. 

“You took a long time, Tooru,” Sugawara noted, his eyes not even bothering to make eye contact. Oikawa deduced that it was better that way, for his already crumbling mental state. 

“M-My apologies.” His voice came out dry, just like sandpaper. Hearing it raspy from the torture he had inflicted made Sugawara’s cheeks flush. His heart raced. Hurting Oikawa like this gave him a thrill, and he curled his toes under the table. 

And so Sugawara opened his journal to a pre-written contract. While Ushijima took the time to go through it, the master looked at the servant. Oikawa’s eyes darted away as he felt his body temperature rise once again. He was nothing but a meal. 

Ushijima, however, didn’t care if a baby showed up at his door or not. He only came to Sugawara’s estate to see if Oikawa was still alive. And he was. Just barely, but he was. That was enough for Ushijima. He could go to bed easy tonight. 


	11. boy bye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In that moment, he realized that working with gods brought adversity.

A bag of diamonds sat in front of Oikawa. His first payment! One would think that he would be more excited, but was the abuse worth it? His fingers shook as he peered into the bag. He didn’t bother counting. At least he could afford to take care of himself. 

“Is it to your liking?” his master asked, examining his own nails. 

“Y-Yes.” 

“Wonderful.” 

After the torture, things went back to normal once again. Every morning, he made the deity breakfast, and he cleaned the house whilst he ate (but made sure to make himself available in case he needed anything). After breakfast, he did laundry, continued to clean, and when he finished, he tended to his master by kissing up his cruel form. At the moment, he kissed up his pale thighs, moving the sheer robe out of the way.

Even when he tortured him, he was beautiful. It was a curse to Oikawa, still thinking he was beautiful. Sugawara leaned forward, wiping a tear from his servant’s cheek. He licked his now salty thumb, smiling in satisfaction. The brunette continued to kiss along his thigh.

“Do I scare you, Tooru?” he asked, leaning in closely. Their noses touched. 

“No.” Oikawa was  _ terrified _ . He couldn’t sleep in fear that Sugawara would come to his quarters and rip off more of his nails. Maybe his master would rip out his throat with his teeth if he felt like it. And the room, the damned room. It flashed in his mind every time he closed his eyes. Tendou’s corpse remained etched in his brain as well, and the fact that his lover had no idea. He felt scared. Guilty. His body wouldn’t stop shaking unless he went to the bar on foot whilst Sugawara slept. Ushijima had never seen someone so traumatized in his life. 

Sugawara tilted Oikawa’s chin upwards. His cold hand was enough to make the brunette tear up again. “You shouldn’t lie to me like that, you know. I’m not one for liars.”

“Please forgive me and my incompetence,” he said whilst his voice quivered. 

“I’ll think about it, my dear. If you do one task for me.”

“Anything.”

And that was how he got to this moment. He loomed over a sleeping pregnant woman after quietly executing her husband. The axe shaking in his hand, he brought it down to her throat, causing a loud blood-filled gurgle to leave her being. Now, he had five minutes to get the fetus out before it died. 

_ “Ushijima wants a baby. Get him one.” _

_ “And how will I do that?” he asked.  _

_ Sugawara leaned in close to his ear. He grinned against his lobe. “The fertility god kills pregnant women and harvests their babies. What do you think about that?” _

His hands stained with a coppery red. Careful to not kill the baby, he took it out of the uterus and sighed a breath of relief as it cried. He was competent. He had pleased his master, and he would get his reward he was promised. The umbilical cord was sliced. In one arm, Oikawa held the now cooing baby boy, and with the other, he cleaned up the mess. 

“You’re so good,” Sugawara moaned out, his cheeks flushing, “So handsome.” His servant’s face remained a cold neutral. But, he did the appropriate thing and thanked him for his compliment. “Can you deliver the baby?”

Midnight fell. Oikawa knocked on Ushijima’s door with slight haste; he wanted to be alone as soon as possible. He had the baby in his arms, making sure to bounce him every time he cooed or began to cry. The night was cold; he didn’t blame him for his tiny complaints. Ushijima finally opened the door, rubbing at his eyes. 

“Oikawa Tooru. Come in.”

“Thank you,” he stated, walking in behind him. He removed his shoes as custom, sitting at the bar. Ushijima poured him a drink after he’d put the infant to sleep in a basket. He noticed Oikawa’s eyes and how they continuously darted from one side of the bar to the other. Sugawara did something to him, however he was alive by some miracle. The bartender couldn’t help but consider it one of the cruelest forms of torture. His mind couldn’t help but wander as the brunette downed his first glass. After his customer let out an “AH”, they made eye contact. 

“His name will be Satori.”

“The baby?”

“Yes. After his father.”

“I like that name. Ushijima Satori.”

A brief silence between them followed. Oikawa stared into the glass, watching the remains of what was once a tall drink swish around. “Tooru. Quit that job. You’ll get yourself killed.”

“I have nothing.”

“As do most people in this town,” he countered whilst he poured him another beer. He watched as the man began gulping his drink down as if he had been dehydrated his entire life. Once more, he vocalized his satisfaction. Ushijima knew that was a customer’s signal for more. Usually he demanded payment, although Oikawa’s facial expression indicated trauma. He looked at the shell of a man. It mirrored the day he looked at Tendou. 

_ In that moment, he realized that working with gods brought adversity. _

“Have you considered running away?” 

“And going where? Everywhere else has gods like him. I can’t escape. I’ll die,” Oikawa sputtered in a panic. When given another drink, just like the others, he chugged. And chugged. And chugged. He panted, his eyes meeting his again. “Wakatoshi...What would you do in my position?”

He answered almost instantly. “I would die.” His voice’s neutrality made the task of killing oneself a little too simple. A whole human life would vanish, if done properly. Oikawa was almost stunned at how easy he made that sound. “I would take a gun. And die.” Their conversation ended there; Oikawa thanked him for their drinks. His face heated up from the alcohol, and his throat became dry. He stumbled during his walk back to Sugawara’s estate. His mind couldn’t help but be plagued with Ushijima’s “advice”. 

_ Die. Die. Of course, it was all so simple! Maybe then, for once in his fucking life, he would go to a good place! _

_ Life was suffering. Life was hell.  _

Oikawa opened the doors to Sugawara’s estate. He had something to do. And fast.


	12. paradise lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something clicked in Oikawa’s mind. This had to be love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE THAT SEX ISN'T THE ANSWER FOR A SUICIDE ATTEMPT! suga is simply manipulative and wants to control oikawa. he also wants to make sex a coping mechanism for him and a temporary distraction. thank you.

If Oikawa didn’t know any better, he would be causing a ruckus. He was going to die! All the more the celebration! He scoured his master’s cabinets for something, anything that would put him to rest. 

“Nothing but spices,” he muttered to himself, continuing to look for a poison of some sort. The place was spotless, so there wasn’t a need for rat poison. That was his preferred way to go. Once more, Sugawara proved to be a cruel god. For someone with such an angelic exterior, he sure found ways to fuck everyone over. A soft groan of frustration left him; he ran his broken fingers through his hair. Why couldn’t he just die already?

It wasn’t often that Sugawara woke up in a cold sweat. Even gods had dreams, or rather nightmares. What would a man like him fear? Like everyone else, he feared two things: things not going his way and death. And being human made one of those things certain. His nightmares always went the same: his power was ripped out of his hands by his whore of a mother who had been gone for so long that he couldn’t remember her face. It was in these nightmares that she then killed him just as brutally as he did her. Times like these made him wonder why he was born in the first place. 

“He’s probably sleeping,” he murmured to himself, making his way to Oikawa’s room. Upon opening the door, he saw that everything was untouched. He never required his servants to stay the night; as long as they came for their duties in the morning, he was satisfied. He was making his way to bed when he heard a small crash come from the kitchen. Sugawara took out the blade that remained strapped to his thigh at all times. Perhaps someone broke in. 

The god squinted, trying to figure out who was downstairs at this time of the night. Their movements sounded just like one person. He could certainly take one person. As he was going to strike, he heard a voice. Oikawa’s voice. 

“Fuck,” he said, putting his hands on his hips, “Absolutely nothing.”

Sugawara relaxed, putting the blade back where it belonged. This was a familiar scene his servants that lived long enough went through. The deity had seen it too many times. 

“Is there anything I can do to make you reconsider?” he cooed, leaning in the kitchen’s doorway. 

“M-My god-” Oikawa gasped. 

“Calm down.” The servant lowered his head in shame. “Look at me.” And he did. He watched as his servant grit his jaw. The scene that had repeated itself so many times played out in his head. This was the part where his servants usually yelled, “Calm down?! Do you know what you’ve done to me?!” or something along those lines. Then, he would get angry and cut their throats or eat them because he needed to be in control. Only Sugawara was allowed to get angry. 

But Oikawa remained quiet. He clenched at his robes, his form twitching as his master leaned forward to rub at his cheek. Being touched so gently was enough to make him cry. 

“Sex is one of the biggest pleasures of life,” his god cooed, his soft thumb continuing to caress his skin, “If you die, you won’t be able to have that.” For whatever reason, Oikawa wondered if Sugawara fucked his corpses. He was sick enough to eat them, anyways. “Will you meet me in my quarters after you clean yourself up?”

“Yessir,” he replied.

“Good boy.” 

Oikawa was talked out of suicide with sex. He felt ashamed, but this was his reality. His problem was neither better nor worse. Sex was just a distraction from the trauma he endured, sex was just a distraction from his ever so cruel master. The angelic front was enough to convince him to clean himself in the tub and rub expensive lavender oil on his soft skin. He entered Sugawara’s room naked. 

The god looked him up and down, gesturing for him to come forward with his finger. They were now centimeters apart, and the brunette watched as his master kissed along the bandages as an apology. He apologized to the fingers he broke out of pure cruelty. His plump lips were soft. So soft, so loving, just like feathered pillows. His warm breath gave his skin a hug, just like a mother would. The trauma seemed no more than a phase when his god held him like this. His actions almost seemed excusable. Oikawa’s eyes became half-lidded to his charms. 

His kisses trailed down his torso and along his thighs. There, he nipped and bit, making sure to be gentle. If he bit hard enough, his servant would certainly freak out. He would be reminded of recent events, he was sure of it. People were easy to read. Sugawara had always been good at it. His tongue licked along Oikawa’s shaft, earning a small shiver from the servant. He smirked in response. 

Their eyes met. Sugawara was satisfied with the flushed expression on the brunette’s face. He loved how his eyebrows scrunched, how he wanted to be quiet even though no one else could hear. While his tongue gently played with the tip of his cock, he gently pushed his fingers in his mouth. Oikawa sucked on them gladly. His body tensed at the taste of flesh in his mouth, but he tried his best to remain distracted. He would be rewarded greatly and overwhelmed by pleasure. 

“A-Ahn,” he whimpered, running his tongue along his pale fingers. His brows scrunched even further. 

“That’s a good boy, Tooru. Just like that. Get them nice and wet,” Sugawra demanded, continuing to play with his cock as if it were some kind of toy. Pulling away, he began to jerk him off. 

“Yessir,” he managed, twisting his tongue along the shaft and in between each digit. The god’s fingers were more than lubricated; he let out a satisfied hum. Saliva trailed, attaching the two of them. They were lovers now. Temporary lovers. Oikawa got on all fours, presenting his ass before his partner. Sugawara always loved seeing his hole twitch, especially when he allowed his middle finger to trace along its circular shape. He grinned upon seeing each and every light hair on Oikawa’s body raise. 

Alas, he slid two fingers in with utmost haste. They prodded and rubbed along his soft walls, curving upwards to hit the g-spot that begged to be touched. Leaning over, the silver-haired male was pleased to see his brunette’s flushed face. Oikawa’s voice slid up and octave as he felt his vulnerable spots being toyed with. He turned his head to the side to hide from the domineering person giving him so much pleasure. In response, Sugawara tilted his head so they looked at each other. 

“Look at me,” he demanded.

“Yessir,” he replied, only for his eyes to flutter into the back of his skull. His lower body was tingling, and his hips pressed downwards into the sheets. His mouth opened to form a pretty ‘O’; his vocal chords pushed out the most delicate of moans to go with it. But Sugawara wasn’t satisfied. The god pulled his head backwards using those beautiful brunette locks. Once again, they made intense eye contact. The deity had always been good at reading people. Those pleading eyes of his partner begged to cum, to which he replied, 

“No.” 

His submissive let out a whine. 

“I believe it’s called  _ edging _ . The act of bringing your partner to the brink of orgasm...Only to drive them insane. I want to see you go mad. Simple,” he stated. Cold. Detached. He withdrew his fingers, watching in amusement. Oikawa’s body shook. He wanted him. He observed Sugawara as he reached underneath his bed. There, he pulled out a rather large luggage that contained many toys. 

“Tonight, I want you to focus on my cock. You won’t be able to cum for awhile...I’m a selfish god. You should’ve figured that out by now.” 

At first this statement confused the brunette, but everything clicked after seeing the chastity cage secured onto his cock. Even Sugawara’s soft, warm hands provided stimulation. He squirmed, letting out another soft whimper. 

“Shut up.”

Oikawa swallowed his next moan. He bit at his own lip and attempted to keep his overflowing pleasure to himself. But Sugawara didn’t stop there; he pulled out some red rope. He made sure his submissive saw him run his pale fingers down its standing part. They teased him whilst following the bight. The dominant chuckled at his flushed expression; he wasted no time securing the rope tight enough around his wrists. If he lost circulation, he’d lose his hands. If he lost his hands, he would be useless to him. If he were useless, he’d have no choice but to die. In this moment, Sugawara believed that such a beautiful person didn’t have to die (perhaps this was clouded by his horniness. Unbeknownst to Oikawa’s knowledge, his noises were enough to get him riled up. He was extremely close to his first orgasm of the night without penetration. If only he knew of his strength..)

The shorter male laid back. They watched his cock twitch in want and need, and he looked up at the angels that held hands on his ceiling. Sex wasn’t a sin. He was doing a god’s work. 

“Ride me,” he ordered, to which Oikawa wasted no time. Leaning downwards, Sugawara moaned into his mouth. He whispered that his hole was warm and soft, something that he looked forward to. Oikawa scrunched his brows and slid his tongue into his mouth. Their pink fleshy muscles rubbed and sucked each other. It was getting hard for the taller male to remain upwards without his arms. His abdominals began to shake as he rode and whimpered into the god’s mouth. Seeing this, the silver-haired male held his hips with both hands. Both of them moaned in sync when his cock hit the right spot. 

“Fuck,” Oikawa moaned, moving up and down Sugawara’s shaft. The bed creaked underneath the two of them, almost vocalizing the intensity of their fucking. Not love-making. Fucking. “Fuck, Fuck.” His voice slid upwards, the way his dominant liked. He digged his nails into his tanner thighs, making him pull away and tilt his head back. Pain was good. In this very moment, pain was good. 

“I fucking love your body,” Sugawara told him, his voice low and in his ear, “I love fucking it. Love destroying it. You’re perfect, which is why you must stay alive for me.” 

Was this love? 

Something clicked in Oikawa’s mind. This had to be love. Finally, he was perfect for someone, someone with authority. He began to drool, his voice bouncing up and down because Sugawara began pounding his ass upwards. His god watched, pleased. Oikawa drooled; his body became warm and tingled with each pound against his g-spot. Little did he know that Sugawara had won. He always did. 

“I’m cumming, Tooru,” he moaned out. He filled him up﹘a feeling he never wanted to forget. 


	13. i was sad last night but im ok now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a shame. 

Love always came with a price, something Tendou Satori learned far too late. In his adult years, not once had he said the famed three words that could make someone crumble in the utmost delight. Not once had he held someone in his warm embrace. Not once had he put his lips on anything that wasn’t food or water. In his thirty years of living, the red-haired male had always felt alone. But to him, alone never equated to lonely. A man as solitary as himself, in his mind, efficiently did his assigned tasks at hand. 

Perhaps murder was a game for one. Yes, Tendou was the god of murder for 17 years. Like Sugawara, he passed the grueling exam consisting of intelligence, interview, and hunting. Like him, it wasn’t something he enjoyed. His primary caregivers conditioned him. From the day they gave birth to him to the day he died, Tendou Satori would be a lone killer. 

This reality was one he knew. Money comforted him. He pulled at the lace keeping a red satin bag together, its contents none other than diamonds. Traditionally, along with his price of 2,000 diamonds, clients had to include a card containing the following regarding their target:

_ First & Last name _

_ Age (Approximate) _

_ Sex _

_ Killing Preference _

From there, the red-haired male would do the research. In this case, he had a simple request.

_ Maul the body beyond recognition. _

His target was the god of wealth, Shirabu Kenjirou. Everyone knew greed consumed his being. He raised taxes each and every year, sometimes month if he was able to see the bedroom floor that was typically covered in gold. This month, he’d placed a beer tax. All bars tripled their prices, allowing the poor and impoverished to see life’s cruel reality from a sober standpoint for once. While Tendou loved money, he also found peace in a nice drink. Alas, he paid one gold piece for a wagon ride towards Shirabu’s current residence. There, he’d meet the love of his life, as well as his downfall. 

After a long and tiresome journey, the red-haired god decided to stay the night at a local inn. His room was small with flowered periwinkle wallpaper. It was a quaint place, a quiet place. Most importantly, it provided him with a place to sleep, although he did appreciate the lack of rodents. He checked under the bed for any assailants; he was only mortal, after all. All he found was a religious bible of sorts for those who wanted to worship. He could respect that. He was one of the many deities being idolized. On top of the creaky bed laid 2 quilts. Since winter was on its way, their weight definitely put a strain on the visitor, but they were more than enough to keep him warm.

Next to the bed stood a dark wood wardrobe. Inside contained a mirror. Nothing more, nothing less. Tendou simply saw an exhausted god. One without passions. His eyes drooped to the sides, just like the way eggs do in a pan, only to be consumed for breakfast. In his dark robes was a lanky body, one empty of love and compassion. It didn’t bother him, though. Nothing did. 

The dresser was a tad dusty, but nothing the deity couldn’t handle. On it sat pictures of the innkeeper, Miss Tanaka Saeko and her little brother who had gone missing many years ago. In fact, that was his doing. Even though the two made eye contact, he didn’t feel remorse. He liked to think of his killing as a business transaction. People had to do what they could to survive, you know. 

Once he situated himself in his room, he took himself to the local bar. His eyes sweeped the establishment, making everybody tense. People weren’t stupid; of course they would knew who death in the flesh was. They peered into their drinks, preferring death from liver failure than whatever Tendou could do. He took a seat at the counter, where a man his age remained stoic. 

Their eyes met, and it was absolutely electrifying for the ruby-haired individual. 

“What can I get for you?” he asked.

“Whatever...your choice,” he replied, clearly struggling.

“Will a beer suffice? It’ll be 20 gold pieces.”

“That sounds perfect,” he sputtered. What was this feeling? So warm, so...just being around him felt like the biggest hug anyone could give. He peered into his beer, giving it a nice few chugs. The warmth went from his chest to his face. “C...Can I ask your name?”

“Ushijima Wakatoshi. Is something wrong?”

Tendou quickly finished the glass. Little did he know that Ushijima wouldn’t remember this encounter. The first memory he’d have of him held the shell of a man who had everything ripped away from him. What a terrible first impression. On the death god’s end, this was...something new. 

_ He fell in love for the first time. Hopefully this will last forever.  _

More importantly, he finished the job. Shirabu died; the aftermath caused economic recession. Gods distributed his money amongst their selfish selves, leaving the people to starve. Ushijima, his supposed love, even suffered and had to close up shop. Like the rest of the deities, this wasn’t his problem. He enjoyed wealth. It filled the void. Temporarily. 

As he sat in solitude, the glint of diamonds and gold pieces suffocated him. It bored him. He grew cold and couldn’t help but think of his boy at the bar serving him a beer. Even though he was doing his job in the service industry, Tendou thought he did it perfectly. His heart raced at the thought of receiving another alcoholic drink. But they were god and human; what if someone wanted him to kill his lover (moreso his person of interest. He had to keep this in mind. What if someone courted him already?)? His chest hurt. He let out a soft huff and looked down at the gold pieces before him. 

Sacrificing wealth and security for someone who didn’t know his name...But no one said that life didn’t come with risks. Although surprise was an understatement when the gods found out about his plans for resignation. In truth, he’d insulted them. They gave him his life, fame, source of income...they gave him his chance to survive, and he was willing to throw it away? Tendou wouldn’t give a reason, which only infuriated them more. What was he supposed to say?

_ Some boy at the bar captivated him? He was willing to throw his life away for someone he didn’t even know?  _

Goshiki, the god of mercy, was the determining vote on his execution: all of his family members were to be executed. His belongings now belonged to the collective order, along with every single gold piece and diamond he obtained through murder. It was almost...reincarnation, in some convoluted way. His and Goshiki’s eyes met. 

_ Merciful my ass,  _ he thought to himself. However, he kept a sour smile on his face as what was left of his family died as a sort of public spectacle. Pigs. All of them. The screams blocked out any coherent thought. Right. This was his rebirth; birth was always meant to be painful. After the event, the red-haired human walked to Ushijima’s town of residence with a rucksack like a vagabond. 

He couldn’t wait to be in his arms. 

Time passed. The two got married. Tendou could certainly ascertain that the sacrifice was worth the pain, suffering, and poverty. They lived above the bar in a humble home, and nothing gave him more joy than waking up next to the man he loved the most. He’d remember that feeling for the rest of his life. 

Another economic recession hit. Jobs became scarce; Tendou himself looked for work. At first, he was wary of working for a god. He knew how fickle they could be. But money was more important. He wanted his Ushijima to be happy. He wanted to be happy. 

Wanting happiness was greedy of him. If he’d settled, he would still be alive, a reality he came to terms with as Sugawara devoured his flesh. His teeth sunk into his muscle. Everything hurt, and he needed a distraction. So, he thought of his husband. How stoic he was, how dumb he was at times. It was a shame. 

A true shame. 


	14. the outsider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seemed that Oikawa found himself in a similar yet problematic predicament.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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It seemed that Oikawa found himself in a similar yet problematic predicament. Once more, he sat in solitude in a dark and dank room. His teeth bit on a rag that tasted like sweat; it didn’t surprise him if someone wore the cloth previously. He blinked twice, only to see black. He couldn’t move his wrists either. Most of the day’s events seemed blurry, but he knew that he had to remain calm. Things would resolve themselves; they had to. 

Unbeknownst to the servant’s knowledge, the events of 24 hours previous were chaotic. As always, he awoke before the sun rose in order to obtain breakfast materials. Today he had everything he needed to make a fresh baguette, paired with bruschetta and brie.The bread’s carbohydrates were sure to keep him awake until lunch, which would consist of Coq Au Vin. After he finished preparations (ending with serving his morning white wine. Surely Sugawara would appreciate some morning sweetness), he checked for the ingredients for his next meal. All were present. Things began with a bang. 

He nodded to himself. Yes, his master would be pleased. With a tray in hand, he walked into his room. Once more, the angels on the wall watched as he placed the platter on the nightstand next to the resting god. The silver-haired male awoke to the sound; he was a light sleeper. 

“Good morning,” he croaked, “Breakfast smells lovely. What is it?”

“A baguette paired with bruschetta, brie, and some white wine. I figured that breakfast should be light, since I plan to make you a big lunch.” 

“That sounds lovely,” he said, his voice trailing off. He rubbed at his porcelain face, desperately attempting to wake up. The night previous, he’d stayed up going through useless documents. Legislation, the people called it. He internally rolled his eyes at the thought. “How did you sleep, Tooru?”

“Just fine, sir.”

“How nice.” Oikawa watched in anticipation as his god’s teeth pierced into the ever so crispy bread and tomatoes. A soft “mm” left him, followed by a nod. Thankfully, he seemed to appreciate his first meal of the day, something that relaxed his ever so tense shoulders. Their conversations reminded the brunette of their strict dynamic, even though he was absolutely infatuated. Brief. Blunt. They said what they needed to. 

Sugawara swirled his white wine around in his glass, allowing its scent to make way into both nostrils. Sharp, with a hint of sweetness. 

“What...what are your plans today, sir?”

“Tooru. You don’t have to talk all of the time, dear. Sometimes it’s alright to be silent. Besides, I despise small talk. Absolutely pointless. Now you just stand there and look pretty, make sure I don’t choke. You wouldn’t want to be accused of killing a god, would you?”

“No, sir.”

“Good boy,” he purred, his eyes squinting ever so slightly. His words ran their fingers down Oikawa’s chest and back. He shivered to himself. “But if you must now, my plans are to go through legislation. Apparently, the people want ‘labor regulations’. They’re being greedy, if you ask me.”

The brunette looked down at his bandaged and now crooked digits. Whenever he attempted to extend them, they quivered at the phalanges and shot an excruciating amount of pain up his arm. Labor regulations, in his humble opinion, would be wonderful. Now fellow subordinates wouldn’t have to go through what he did. Looking over at his master, he kept quiet. He knew very well that if he voiced his (what Sugawara deemed) unnecessary opinion, he’d be ripped to shreds. 

It was like Sugawara said:  _ sometimes, it’s alright to be silent.  _

A few hours went by. During that time, they spent their time apart. The god, fingers entangled in his own hair (in pure frustration), scanned through documents guaranteeing basic human rights for all servants. He scowled. Meanwhile Oikawa scrubbed at the floors of his large estate. Someone pounded on the door. Before the servant could move, Sugawara rushed past him with scrunched brows. 

“I’ll get it,” he muttered. He opened it rather aggressively, only to be met with the Execution Corps. To put it simply, the Execution Corps were similar to the idea of police, except only applied to mortal beings. The gods had their own, separate policing system that was far more corrupt and entertaining.

The Execution Corps were well known for their brutality and refusal to listen to the accused. They were also easy to pay off, so getting away with crimes such as murder weren’t that difficult. If you had diamonds, that is.

“How can I help you, dear?” he asked sweetly.

“Good afternoon. We’re here for your servant, actually.”

“Oh my,” he said, putting his hand over his mouth. His eyes became a bit teary. 

“Our apologies, but your servant, Oikawa Tooru, is under suspicion for murder. Witnesses say they saw him murder a pregnant woman.”

“That’s awful...Come in, come in. Please, take a seat.” He moved to the side. They didn’t take a seat. In fact, they rushed in and grabbed the brunette. They hooked his arms with their elbows, making sure he wouldn’t squirm. 

“Sugawara-sama..!” he called. But his dear Sugawara-sama did nothing but watch. In fact, he had a smile behind his covered mouth. You could see it from in between those pale, pretty, and slender fingers of his. This was a game. Oikawa didn’t do anything particularly wrong. His deity just felt like having some fun after a tough day. Who knew that it involved jail and execution? Despite the betrayal, Oikawa couldn’t help but feel a yearning for his touch. He wanted to be kissed and held. 

His silver-haired god could do no wrong! 

From there, everything was a blur. He awoke in the jail cell, just like the time all of his digits were shattered under Sugawara’s grasp. 

_ Sugawara. Sugawara. Sugawara.  _ His thoughts became cloudy when he thought of his “lover”. He would come for him, certainly. He had to, or else he’d go mad! His vision went from black to orange. Finally, someone was in there with him. It wasn’t so dark and lonely anymore.

“Hi, there.”

He nodded in response. Saliva got everywhere as he bit down on the rag. Screaming wouldn’t get him anywhere. 

“I’m with the Execution Corps. You know us. Do you know why you’re here?” he asked. 

He shook his head. 

“Well. My name is Kozume Kenma,” he said softly, “And you’re here for murder. Witnesses say they saw you murder a pregnant woman.”

_ That’s funny. There couldn’t be any witnesses. Unless he messed up? _

Kenma wasn’t one for back talk, so he kept the gag in his mouth. In all honesty, he was fine with talking to himself. He was the only person he wanted to hear. 

“Well, you have no rebuttal. Your execution will take place in two days, then, unless someone is there to help you build a case.”

Their conversation was brief. No one liked small talk in this fucked up town. But Oikawa would die for the man he loved. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing after all. 


End file.
